


Sharing Sweets and Holding Hands

by Diary



Series: First Year, Second Year [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bechdel Test Fail, Chamber of Secrets AU, Conversations, Gen, Gen Fic, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Second Year, Male-Female Friendship, POV Neville Longbottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repost. During his second year, first year Luna is deposited in Neville's compartment. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Sweets and Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

“And you’ve got your money?”

“Yes, Hermione,” Neville answers.

He doesn’t, but he can see she’s getting more and more worried about Ron and Harry. Besides, he doesn’t want her to give up her money just because he was stupid enough to lose his.

“Well- You’ll come and find me if you need anything?”

“Yes,” he answers.

“I’d better go and find them, then. Have a good trip, Neville.”

“You, too, Hermione,” he says.

She sweeps out of the compartment, and he lets out a sigh of relief and hopes, for Ron and Harry’s sakes, they haven’t done anything incredibly mental.

Trevor croaks and jumps onto Neville’s shoulder.

“I imagine you can’t wait until you get to see the giant squid, again,” Neville says. “Must be nice.”

He doesn’t understand why Trevor doesn’t just stay in the lake. As nice as it was of Uncle Algie to give him to Neville, it’s obvious Trevor doesn’t particularly care for being a pet.

Suddenly, the compartment door opens.

Trevor makes an indignant noise at almost losing his balance.

“Oh, good, it’s Longbottom,” the head poking in says.

“Um, yes?”

Opening the door fully, it’s revealed she’s a Ravenclaw prefect with long, curly hair and glasses. Holding her hand is a one of the strangest-looking girls Neville has ever seen. The girl is skinny and might be a Malfoy if her pale skin, almost white hair, and silver-gray eyes are any indication. She’s wearing a bright green dress with numerous pockets, thin black pants, and no shoes or socks. Her wand is behind her left ear, and her necklace seems to be made out of butterbeer caps.

“Neville, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Neville Longbottom. Neville would be very happy to share his compartment with you,” she says while giving Neville a look he recognises to mean it would be a bad idea for him to say otherwise.

“Er, hello,” Neville says to the girl. Trying not to squirm at her unblinking stare, he adds, “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“That’s very kind of you,” the girl says.

Her tone brings to mind the sound that happens whenever Uncle Algie taps his glass with a fork.

She lets go of the prefect’s hand and sits down.

Giving him a smile, the prefect says, “Now, come and get me if either of you need anything.”

Once she leaves, Neville looks awkwardly at the now-humming girl before realising he’s starring and quickly looks away.

Finally, the silence gets to be too much, and he asks, “So, is this your first year?”

“Yes,” the girl answers.

He realises it’s not exactly a kind thought, but some part of Neville prefers the loneliness of sitting alone than having to be around this girl. She hasn’t done anything bad; she just- she’s just very weird, he decides.

“Uh, are you-” He remembers it’s not polite to ask about blood status. “Do you have any family at Hogwarts?”

“I don’t think so,” she answers. “My daddy went when he was growing up. Mummy moved here from Ireland when she and Daddy got engaged.”

“Oh,” he says. Seamus Finnegan is Irish, but according to him, many of his cousins are taught magic at home and go to muggle schools. “You’re not related to Malfoy, then?”

“Who’s that,” she inquires.

“A very mean wizard,” Neville says. “His whole family is evil.”

“I don’t think whole families can be evil,” she says.

“Well, he’s a Slytherin,” Neville stubbornly replies.

“My daddy was a Slytherin,” the girl says.

Part of Neville feels guilty, but some part of him doesn’t. He’s yet to meet a nice Slytherin.

She withdraws something from one of her pockets. “This is his magazine,” she tells him. “Someday, when I’m grown, he’s going to give it to me. Daddy says that ambition isn’t good or bad. It’s like a fork. A person can use it to eat, or they can use it to hurt someone. If it weren’t for him wanting to take chances, he’d have never started The Quibbler, and Mummy never would have written to him.”

He looks through the magazine and quickly recognises it. He’s never been interested in reading it due to it being so weird, but his Uncle Algie has a subscription.

Neville suddenly has a flash of memory.

_“It’s very irresponsible of you to spend money on such trash.”_

_“Eh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Augusta. This is the most honest magazine there is. Most, if not all, of the articles may be complete fantasy, but I can tell that Lovegood really believes them.”_

“That’s pretty cool,” Neville offers. “You having a dad that writes magazines. My great-uncle, he says that The Quibbler is the most honest magazine there is.”

“Thank you,” the girl says with a smile. 

Neville finally remembers her name is Luna.

She reaches over and flips the magazine upside down. “There’s Daddy,” she says.

His first thought is her father looks like a messy, unusually-dressed version of Malfoy’s father.

“It’s not kind to call people mean and evil just because they belong to a certain family or house,” Luna tells him, and Neville’s struck by how her voice isn’t angry. “Sirius Black was a Gryffindor, you know, but I’ve met many Gryffindors who were kind to me.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says.

“You can have the copy, if you want,” she tells him. “I’ve already read it. Would you like for my daddy to write your great-uncle a letter thanking him? He always sends thank-you notes to people who write to him.”

“Even the ones who send him nasty letters?”

He has a sinking suspicion she’s going to write to her father, they’re going to discover his grandmother is Augusta Longbottom, and then, Luna isn’t going to want to have anything to do with him. As strange as she is, at least, she’s actually talking to him, and he doesn’t think it’s out of politeness. Hermione is usually too busy with Ron and Harry, they’re usually too busy with other things, and the other boys try to include him, but he usually ends up making the decision to separate himself from them.

“Yes,” she answers. “All the great magazines of history have had their detractors. Daddy says that it’s important to let them know how important they are.”

“Um, well, I think Uncle Algie would like that.”

She digs a picture out. “This is the last picture of my mummy,” she tells him. “She was born with blonde hair, but when she was nineteen, she started charming it brown. Daddy says my hair will likely get darker as I grow.”

Neville studies the picture. Luna’s younger and seems to only be wearing a long, short-sleeved shirt. A woman with crimped brown hair and blue eyes is holding her and twirling around the room. In the background, Mr Lovegood sits and claps while he watches his wife and daughter. 

Her words catch up to him, and he repeats, “Last?”

“Oh, yes,” Luna says. “She died, you see, when I was nine. I miss her terribly.”

“I’m sorry,” Neville thickly offers. “My mum and dad- they got badly cursed during the war, and they have to live at St. Mungo’s.”

It’s not something he particularly wants to tell her, but it’s the only way he can see to try to comfort her. He’s dead proud of his parents, but he doesn’t want people like Hermione to pity him or people like Malfoy to have something else to use against him.

The compartment door opens, and Neville jumps. Trevor angrily croaks and jumps into Neville’s bag.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Luna jumps up and digs through her pockets. “Yes, please,” she says. “Do you have any pudding?”

“Sorry, dear. You’ll have to wait until you get to Hogwarts.”

Nodding, Luna retrieves her money and begins picking things out.

“You, Longbottom,” the witch inquires.

“No, thank you,” Neville answers.

She gives him a knowing look and hands him some pumpkin juice and a pack of crackers. “Here you go, dear. I can’t, in good conscience, let the little ones go hungry. Just try not to lose your money when Christmas break comes.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he mutters.

Once they’re alone, Luna says, “It’s okay. Nargles sometimes take my money, too. Would you like some of my butterbeer caps? I find they’re good at keeping them away.”

“Nargles?”

She explains, and Neville thinks he might be close to understanding what Uncle Algie meant. He’s fairly certain Nargles and some of the other things Luna’s talking about aren’t real, but he can tell she really believes they are.

After careful thought, he decides not to say anything. It’s not like she’s trying to say the sky isn’t blue during the day (cloudy days excluded), and it may not exactly be the same, but he really thinks wearing his favourite pair of socks does help him sleep better at night. Maybe he’s wrong, but whether he wears them or not, it doesn’t hurt anyone, even if it does annoy his gran something awful.

“May I try a cracker?”

“Oh. Sure, Luna.” He holds them out. “You can have as many as you want.”

“Would you like to try some mine?” She motions to the sweets she bought.

“No, thank you,” he answers.

She looks at him, and her face changes.

Suddenly, Neville realises, for once, this isn’t about pity. All his life, he’s witnessed people trading food, and she probably has, too.

“On second thought, sure. Thanks, Luna.”

She smiles, and Neville feels a jolt go through him. For such a skinny, pale girl with an odd face, he thinks, she has a very pretty smile.

“My mummy was fond of crackers with a mixture of strawberry jam and peanut butter on them,” Luna informs him. “My favourite has always been pudding, though. Daddy isn’t much for sweets. His favourite food is lamp chops with buttered potatoes.”

“I love chocolate frogs,” Neville says. “Trevor always glares when I eat them, though.”

“Is Trevor the toad that jumped into your bag?”

“Yeah,” Neville answers. “My great-uncle gave him to me as a present for starting Hogwarts.”

“Daddy gave me a new quill.” She digs through her pockets. “It’s self-inking. That’s good, because I have a habit of spilling inkwells over onto my clothes.”

“Did you get your wand from Ollivander’s?”

“No,” she answers. “I’ve been learning magic since I was three. It was mostly Mummy who taught me the practical. She was very talented at charms and potions. Daddy’s always been better at teaching the book stuff.”

“Oh,” Neville says.

Gran had insisted they follow the rules and said it wasn’t fair to the muggle-borns for children from magical children to learn while they had to wait and could only do it for so many months.

Since he’s met Hermione and Dean, he’s grudgingly come around to her point, but he’d still love to be able to practise magic at home.

She takes down her wand. “My great-aunt Mary, on Mummy’s side, was a wandmaker. She made this for me when she last visited. It was the last one she made.”

Neville digs his out. “This was my dad’s,” he says. “Professor McGonagall says that I need one of my own, but this one works well enough, most of the time.”

“Is Professor McGonagall nice?”

After a long moment, Neville answers, “She’s fair.”

Glumly, he realises, for Luna’s sake, it’d probably be best if she didn’t get put in Gryffindor. He doesn’t imagine Professor McGonagall would have much patience for her. Flitwick would probably be the best head of house for Luna, but if this happens, after the train drops them off, they’ll probably never really talk.

“What about the other professors?”

“Well, besides Snape, they’re all okay,” he answers. “Professor Snape is the head of the Slytherin house, but I’m not saying this because of that. He doesn’t really even like most of the Slytherins. Malfoy’s his favourite.”

Cocking her head, Luna says, “He’s hurt you.”

A cold feeling goes through him, and he almost snaps before some part of him manages to stop his mouth from opening.

_“Don’t coddle him, Minerva. If he can’t concoct a potion that small children are capable of making, provided they follow the simple instructions, he’s either too stupid or lazy to be here. What happened to Aurors Longbottom and Longbottom should not be used as an excuse.”_

_Professor McGonagall started to say something, realised Neville could hear, and firmly closed the door._

_Later, she gave him a chocolate frog. “I know Professor Snape makes you nervous, Neville, but you must try harder.”_

For the first time ever, Neville had found himself wanting to curse someone.

He’s never used what happened to his parents as an excuse for any mistake or bad behaviour on his part, and just what gave the professor the right to talk so casually about them? What had Snape done during the war? Who had he lost? Neville might forget many things, but he remembers every regular visitor to the ward and can recognise them on sight. He can’t even recall Snape as a one-time visitor.

‘What happened’. What happened was they went through stuff Neville can’t imagine, and through it all, they knew they had to keep quiet, and they did. What happened is his dad often ignores him, and his mum will usually pat him and give him wrappers and pieces of paper. What happened is he doesn’t know what their voices sound like. His best memory of them is his dad playing with his fingers while his mum held both of their hands, and he knows, in comparison to the memories they could have, it’s-

“Yeah,” he says. “He’s hurt a lot of students.” Looking up, he says, “It’s alright, Luna. Let’s just please not talk about him?”

With her face back to its dreamy state, she nods and pushes the last chocolate frog into his hands. “I do hope they take us into the forbidden forest. Perhaps, I can find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack there.”

After she’s done telling him all about it, he realises it’s about time for her to change.

“Can I change in here?”

He remembers her holding the prefect’s hand.

Oh, he thinks.

Some part of him labelled her as fearless, but he knows she’s just a student like him. New ones mainly stick to whatever corridor they choose to sit in and sometimes don’t even going to the bathroom until they get into their new common room.

“Do you want me to walk you to the loo and wait for you?”

“Yes, please,” she answers.

She takes his hand, and even though he’s never been much for hand-holding, he doesn’t object.

He waits outside the loo.

Suddenly, Hermione appears, and he braces himself.

She looks ready to throw a killing curse at someone.

“Hello, Neville. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I’m helping a first-year out.”

She beams. “That’s very nice of you, Neville. If you need anything, just come find me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go stress how very important it is to those twins that their brother and his best friend are not on the train!”

Watching her stomp away, Neville feels fear spread through him.

Surely, Harry and Ron are okay, he tells himself. They’re always going on adventures, after all. What if they just found a different way to get to Hogwarts and decided to take it?

Still, if this is the case, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near them without being able to cast a proper shielding charm. Forget regular body-binds and possible killing curses, Hermione would body-bind them, pour spiders over Ron, destroy Harry’s broom in front of him, and then, she’d stand there and lecture for hours and hours.

Well, he concedes, Hermione wouldn’t do the spider and broom-thing, but he wouldn’t put it past her to get angry enough one of these days to body-bind them like she did to him so they’d be forced to listen to her.

Luna reappears with her necklace still on and her wand tucked back under her ear.

“If I’m put in Slytherin, will you still talk to me?”

The question shocks him.

“If you want me to, sure, Luna. You’re-” He pauses. “I’ve liked talking to you.”

“Daddy said I might have trouble making friends,” she tells him.

“Well, if you want me as one, I’ll be happy to be your friend,” he fiercely tells her.

His gran hadn’t told him the same thing, but she hadn’t really needed to, either. He’d thought maybe he and Hermione- but she’d been saved by Harry and Ron, and he’d realised her helping him with homework and playing games with him in the common room couldn’t compare to what the three of them had.

Back in the compartment, instead of sitting down across from him, she sits down next to him, picks up The Quibbler, and turns the pages. “This is my favourite article,” she says.

0

Neville jolts awake when the compartment door opens.

Luna is curled up on the seat with her head in his lap.

“Come on,” a Slytherin prefect says. He smiles and helps Luna stand while Neville blinks and tries to work the kinks out of his body. “It’s time for your friend to be sorted,” he says while pushing peppermint patties into each of their hands.

The cool peppermint fully wakes Neville up.

“May I go with Neville?”

“I’m sorry,” the prefect tells her. He helps Neville put his coat on. “It’s tradition for the first years to go by boat. But if you don’t get sorted into Gryffindor, one of you can still go to the other’s table during breakfast tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Luna,” Neville says. “I’m going to catch up with my house.”

Nodding, Luna takes the prefect’s hand. “Goodbye. Watch out for Nargles.”

0

Luna sits down, and it takes a few minutes, before a blue crest starts to appear on her robes, her tie changes, and there’s a shout of, “Ravenclaw!”

Ignoring the puzzled looks of his housemates, Neville stands and claps.

0

“Hello,” Luna says.

Startled, he looks over and wonders how long she’s been sitting there while he scanned the Great Hall trying to find her.

“Hullo, Luna.” He notices she’s turned her tie into a bowtie. “How do you like your common room?”


End file.
